


Intimacy Troubleshooting

by Artemis_Crimson



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Adamantine-3 is mine, Canon-Typical Violence, Chrys is Cryptidcae's, F/F, Post-Red War (Destiny), Romance, idk the timeline other than that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Crimson/pseuds/Artemis_Crimson
Summary: In which there's trust and doubt
Relationships: Female Guardian/Female Guardian (Destiny), Guardian/Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Intimacy Troubleshooting

Chrys doesn’t pull her golden gun with the same sort of flourish that’s in style now. She doesn't pull a gun at all, finding the familiar shape of a recurve suits her best. Sunlight pools in her hand a grim certainty and fire flows around her. Two steps forward towards the mark and she’s melted the ice cold stone that makes the bridges in this pocket of Ascendant nowhere. 

Quick as a knife trick she dodges a blind blow from the half melted Taken, sparks from her arrow still flickering off its body to gutter out on the ground. She reloads her rifle behind a rock and her partner cuts in.

Adamantine kicks into the air like every other voidwalker to exist, that fundamental freefall routine. She sighs the exact same static whisper as when she’s wrapped around Chrys, closer than armour and taking blunt nips at her neck. The same breathless laugh as when she pulls her to some half hidden corner when it shatters the right way.

It staggers under the violet onslaught and when only a few fragments of gravity gone rotten remain circling their prey she takes the opening. Her rifle holstered in favour of her sword slicing it’s waist clean open on a backhand blow. She flicks whatever excuse for blood it has off and the remains scatter into harmless sterile neutrino spray.

Chrys doesn’t believe in much, there’s more she doubts than she trusts. The last city seems a lie even when she saves it. Safety bought with bullet and death until they can’t pay anymore and it all crumbles down. She trusts her armour, barely to hide her nuclear shadow. She trusts her bow- her vow not to snap, her arrows not to splinter and her aim. Her sword not to shatter, her ship not to fail.

Adamantine does. She trusts. She’s eight feet of sincerity staring down at her like she hung the stars. She’s newer than Chrys, she’d like write it off as naivety. She can’t, Adamantine is something else. She carries too many spare weapons, spends too much time on their repair. She made herself sick on the light learning how to carry every element as quickly as she could. Even though she can call a textbook example of any standard warlock ability she’ll still come back shaking and burnt out from trying to learn more.  
She fears she’ll forget everything she’s learned more than anything else. 

In the aftermath, a rare night spent packed into her tiny jumpship instead of the Sunscraper for once, when they’re pressed chin to cheek like always Adamantine confesses that sometimes she doesn’t trust her body. She doesn’t know what she’s done, what codes might call her or even what war she was meant to fight but that here, with her, she’s safe.

Adamantine thinks her weapons will fail, that her light will leave her again. That everything important will be gone one day, but not everyone. She just trusts that in the awful futures she can’t help but imagine Chrys will be there to help. It’s a thought not worth considering to Adamantine, it’s second nature that should the reverse happen, if Chrys ever needs help instead that she’ll always be there for her.

**Author's Note:**

> I might end up sticking the rest of their little drabbles into this or I might make new works, I'll fuck around and find out


End file.
